A Gazzy FanFiction
by That Pesky Nargle
Summary: This is kind of just a bunch of one-shots revolving around Gazzy. A plot may or may not come in later. I was inspired today at dinner by my little brother to write this. Read this if you are a fan of Gazzy! Suggestions for Gasman one-shots welcome!
1. A Sad Attempt at Eating Dinner

**Hello all you lovely FanFictioners! As I said in the summary (I know, it's a crap summary, but you can deal), I was inspired to write this by my little brother today at dinner. He's very similar to Gazzy, and every time I read anything about Gazzy, I think of my brother. There's only one major difference though. Gazzy is 8 years old. My brother is… hmmm… 12. But they are almost exactly the same. That just goes to show how mature my brother is. It's sad, I know. So… with that said… On with the story (well, first the Disclaimer, but you get what I mean)!**

**Disclaimer: As much you may think, based on my writing skills, that I deserve to own Maximum Ride (as if!), I do not. Please try not to mistake me for James Patterson (because I really look like him. Note: sarcasm).**

**Nudge POV:**

I poured two plastics (well they aren't glass, so what else do I call them?) of chocolate milk for me and Gazzy, and sat down on the couch in front of the cluttered coffee table in the living room. (No I'm not going to admit to you that most of the clutter was mine.)

Nobody else wanted to watch the movie (Freaky Friday, by the way. I can't believe that they wouldn't want to watch it! Not even Ella! It's such a good movie!) besides me and Gazzy. I don't think that he caught on to the fact that it was actually, I admit this, a chick flick. But I wasn't going to tell him otherwise. Watching a movie alone is so boring isn't it?

As I was saying, Gazzy and I were eating dinner (leftovers, courtesy of Iggy) in the living room. I popped (well, it didn't actually pop…) in the DVD and hit the "play" button on Dr. M's fancy clicker. (It actually does click!)

The movie started playing, and I was so distracted by the screen that I couldn't eat the beans and corn bread that was on a half of a broken plate. (I don't know why we kept that thing, but Max insisted that we not waste "Perfectly fine dishes".)

A few minutes into the movie, I glance over at Gazzy to see his reaction. I almost wondered if he had already left, because he was making no sound at all (not even eating! I know! It IS weird!) which is very VERY unlike him.

"HOLY CRAP GAZ! HOW LONG WERE YOU DOING THAT? YOU SCARED ME HALF TO DEATH BECAUSE I'M NOT ACTUALLY DEAD YET, BUT NOW I MIGHT DIE SOON THANKS TO YOU!"

The Gasman's head was centimeters from my face, making a scary ratty face, scrunching up his nose, baring his teeth, and opening his eyes much wider than I think is healthy. He immediately turned his attention to the movie, whistling like he was pretending to act innocent. But everyone knows that that is always fake. Unless you're dumb. I kept trying to ask him how long he had been doing that (sometimes I feel really oblivious) but he never said anything. He just stared at the TV.

I continued watching the movie, but I could feel Gazzy RIGHT next to me, making that weird creepy face he makes. Every time I turned toward him, trying to catch him in the act, he would turn away. Grrr. He kept laughing after every time he did it, until I was laughing hysterically too.

"Gazzy, stop doing that! C'mon! I'm trying to watch the movie!" I managed, in between laughs.

"Doing what?" he grinned stupidly.

"That face! With the rats face! You know what I'm talking about!" He just cocked his head in response. "Ergh! Stop it!" I cried.

After a few minutes (Well, maybe more than a few. Okay, fine! It was around 10 minutes!), I just stopped trying to catch him, and tried to focus on eating and watching the movie. Max walked through the living room, but stopped when she saw Gazzy.

"C'mon Gazzy. Is that necessary?" she asked in a motherly tone.

"What this?"-he made the face-"No." I started laughing again.

"Never mind Gaz. Never mind," Max said as she shook her head and walked away.

I actually ate some of my food after that, because he all of a sudden became very interested in the grampa of the girl.

"I'm FRANKENSTEIN!" he yelled right in my ear. I turned my head, and saw that he was making a different face (probably his Frankenstein face) and he had broccoli sticking out of both of his ears.

"Doesn't Frankenstein have bolts on his neck? I don't think it's his ears. You look more like Shrek."

"Aye, Donkey!" he laughed in a perfect (and I mean it when I say perfect) Scottish imitation of Shrek. He has that weird- what's it called? Tranviliquist?- voice thing that always scares the crap out of me.

"That can't be sanitary, Gaz. You're gonna get an ear infection, and broccoli will start growing out of your ears. But then we would be able to harvest broccoli from your ears instead of having to buy it! That would be cool! But I don't even like broccoli. And isn't it meant for your mouth?"

"It's too crunchy! And cold! You eat it!" he said in his own voice, throwing broccoli at me.

"I just said that I don't like broccoli!" It was quiet after that except for the movie playing and the sound of him slurping down his beans. Oh God. Retyping this right after, I realize that beans probably weren't a good leftover to choose from for The Gasman, who completely lives up to his name. I'm scared now.

When I came to this realization (ooh, that sounds professional), I immediately looked over at him, ready to snatch up his plate before he could go any further. And get this: he wasn't using any silverware! Not even the no-good spork that he insists on using! He was just lapping up the beans like a cat. He paused when he realized I was staring at him, and turned to grin up at me. He started to sing:

"Beans, beans the magical fruit. The more you eat 'em, the more you toot. The more you toot, the better you feel, so beans, beans for every meal!

"Beans, beans they're good for your heart. The more you eat 'em the more you fart. The more you fart, the better you feel, so eat your beans for every meal!" As if on cue, he let one rip. Loud. Or "Loud and Proud!" as NigaHiga would say. Ryan Higa is so funny! Don't you just love him? I do!

"Not for you, Gasser. Bad, bad, bad idea. I understand why Max banned Iggy from singing that song."

It was too late for me to recover any of the food that he hadn't yet eaten. Just as that thought reached my head, my nose started burning. You don't need to guess why.

"Next time you're going to do that, leave the living room!" I cried, although it came out muffled, because I was hiding my face in a throw pillow Dr. M has on the couch as decoration.

"Oops," he said, as another wave of excessive stink hit me. The pillow didn't even help anymore. That's how bad it was.

"Wow Gazzy, can you get any smellier?" I asked in disbelief.

"I don't know, I never tried," he answered seriously. I rolled my eyes, and kept the pillow until he told me it was safe. Maybe for him, but no for Nudge. Nope! I immediately dived back into the safety and comfort of the pillow. After a few minutes, I came out. All clear! Finally!

A minute or two later, Gazzy was coughing and laughing. What did he do now? I carefully looked over and he was giggling hysterically and choking on his milk. Chocolate milk is so yummy and regular milk is so bleh, I wonder why they even make it, you know? Why don't they just use the chocolate cows that are on the milk carton? Everyone would be happier and less cranky that way. At least we have coffee. My favorite is espresso. But Max doesn't let me drink coffee, and she got really mad at Iggy the one time he bought me espresso…

Back to Gazzy. Tears were running down his face. Wait, those weren't tears… Ahh! Chocolate milk tears were coming from his nose, spraying all over me! Oh, Gazzy. What will we do with you?

"Gaz, that is sooo gross! You are helping me clean this up! Otherwise I'll tell Max that you dumped your milk on me!"

This just brought on another mad laughing fit, spraying me with more milk. I said I like chocolate milk, not chocolate milk nose backwash! I sighed and ran to the bathroom to shower, leaving him (literally) rolling on the floor in a fit of laughter and a puddle of chocolate milk nose backwash.

So much for the movie.

**So, how did you like it? This is mostly me reliving an experience from earlier today but in Nudge's point of view (which is more fun that mine, because I can make her rant). Yes, this all happened. Keep in mind my brother is 12. **

**I think I said this in the summary, but I'll say it again. If you want to send in ideas for Gazzy one-shots, you are welcome to, and if I like your idea, I'll use it. (Actually I'll be psyched to get reviews at all, so even if I don't like it, I'll probably use it. Unless I get a huge flow of reviews for suggestions, which is highly unlikely.) Also, if you review, I'll be more motivated to update sooner. But only if I get good reviews if you know what I mean. If I get only bad reviews, I probably won't update again, actually. I'll just write them to write them and keep them stored safely in my netbook. I'm not saying that flames aren't allowed, but I prefer constructive flames if that makes sense at all. Now I sound like Nudge. That's embarrassing. I'm shutting up now.**


	2. A 'Short Break'

**This was (again) inspired by a certain little brother of mine. It really happened the other day (the same day as the dinner incident, actually), but I had an English essay due, so I couldn't write this one. **

**Disclaimer: As much you may think, based on my writing skills, that I deserve to own Maximum Ride (as if!), I do not. Please try not to mistake me for James Patterson (because I really look like him. Note: sarcasm).**

**Iggy POV****:**

Gazzy and I were working on our latest project (don't you DARE tell Max. All of our hard work would be ruined!) when we decided to take a break.

"Iggy, where's the lemonade? I can't find it in the fridge," Gazzy called to me from the kitchen. I finished wrapping up our… um… creation just in case Dr. M and all of the girls decided to come home from the mall early, and I walked into the kitchen.

"I don't know where the lemonade would be. It's not like I would hide it in our room for a midnight snack. Well, I would, but I didn't. You might actually have to make more. Uh, maybe I should make more."

"No, you don't have to! I'll do it!" he said, his voice all cheery.

"Gazzy, really I can-"

"Do you know where the lemonade powder is?" I just decided to let him make it, but if anything happened, he was cleaning up the mess.

"It should be in the same cabinet as the bread I think," I sighed reluctantly.

"On it!" I heard him open a cabinet, realize it was the wrong one and slam it shut again. He opened another cabinet, and scoffed, "This is totally a scam of the Pillsbury Doughboy!"

"What? That can't be! Oh no! What is it?" I was genuinely worried. The Pillsbury Doughboy is not someone to mess with.

"It's on the bread bag. It's a white bear, with a chef's hat that says 'Bimbo' and it's chubby and cute! This is not cool."

It did sound serious. We couldn't have an imposter Pillsbury Doughboy loaf of bread in the house. What to do, what to do.

"Should we burn it?" Gazzy asked hopefully. I thought about it.

"I think we should put water in the bread bag, and hide it until it starts to grow mold so that" I did the parentheses gesture with two of my fingers "Bimbo will be forever shamed."

"Sure, whatever. Where do we hide it?"

"Um, let's hide it in our room in the closet where we hide everything else that we don't want Max to find," I suggested. I heard Gazzy put the water on and open the plastic bag. He ran off to hide the bag of no-good imposter bread.

I took out the lemonade powder container and a plastic juice pitcher. I scooped four and a half scoops of the Country Time powder, and was about to fill the pitcher with water, when Gazzy ran back in.

"Hey, I was going to do that!" he said, sounding only a little annoyed.

"Um, maybe next time," I lied. I didn't want him anywhere near the artificial lemonade making process. My mistake: not putting it away.

I heard him take the whole container of powder to the table and noisily start slurping it up. No, I don't know how that's possible to slurp up something solid (unless it's Jell-O of course), but Gazzy managed it. At least it sounded like it.

I rolled my eyes and filled up the pitcher I had been holding in the most awkward position for a while. I got a big silicone spoon/scraper thing and stirred the lemonade. That's when I heard the choking. _Oh, Gaz. What have you done now?_

I put down the awesome silicone utensil that I love using, and I walked to that table.

"Is there a problem?" I said with a slight grin on my face. With The Gasman, there's always a problem.

"N-no. I'm fine," he managed to get out really fast between enormous coughs.

"Uh-huh. That's why you're barking like a seal. You really do sound just fine. What happened?" He let out another round of crazily obnoxious hacking.

"I inhaled- ACKS-HOO!"

"You inhaled 'ax who'?"

"I inhaled pink lemonade powder!" It was pink? I had just assumed it was yellow like most lemonade. That was a crucial piece of evidence that I had overlooked when we were trying o make explosives out of this powder instead of gun powder. No wonder it didn't work!

"You would Gaz, you would do that." The coughing fit subsided, and it was pretty silent- well, silent except for his maniacal laughter. "Are you okay? Well mentally, I know you aren't, but is anything abnormal for you going on in your noggin?" I asked, quite seriously. My acting is getting better. Heh heh. Noggin is a cool word.

"I'm fine. Why do you want to know?" he giggled.

"Oh, nothing. Not that there's anything weird about randomly laughing out…"

"My throat still tickles," he complained.

"Is that why you were laughing? Then drink some water! You couldn't have thought of that on your own?" That kid amazes me sometimes.

I sat down with a glass of yummy PINK lemonade. It was a little bit watery, but I wasn't going to risk taking out the powder again. Out of the near silence, he was coughing again. I rolled my eyes. For a best friend, this one really requires some looking after.

"What now?" I sighed. Gazzy was obviously coughing way too much to respond, so I tried to think like him. The water was still making splashing sounds in the sink. Oh wow. Did he really just do what I think he did?

"Really Gasser? Really? You seriously thought that inhaling water would reverse it? You breathed in pink lemonade powder, and to make you stop hacking you inhaled water? I told you to _drink_ it. Not breathe it. Oh the joys of little brothers." He just went on wheezing.

_Finally_, we both got to drink our artificial pink lemonade without choking. We had only planned on taking five minutes off of our _creation,_ but it ended up being more like twenty. I really hope that "Bimbo" get's what he deserves. It was totally a copyright of the Pillsbury Doughboy! Really! That's not cool, Bimbo. Not cool.

**Remember: this actually happened. (Well, substitute my brother for Gazzy, and me for Iggy.) Gazzy is 8. My Gazzy is 12. Keep that in mind as you read these one-shots. I'm trying to make each of them at least 1,000 words, not including the author's note. Let my know if it's too long or too short. I labled it as Humor, so it has to be somewhat funny right? R&R? **


End file.
